Abuse and Promiscuity

Warning: This post talks about sexual abuse.

One of the results of child sexual abuse that people don’t readily talk about is just how fucked up your sexual development becomes. I was only seven years old when the abuse began, so there was plenty of time to skew my views on sexuality.

Part of the reason why some sexually abused children become promiscuous is because we’re looking to add as much distance and experience as possible from the abuse. The more men I had sex with, the farther away the abuse was from my current reality. It was only later that I realized it was all the same.

I lost my virginity when I was a teenager, although technically, I wasn’t a virgin. What do you call having sex later by choice when your real virginity was stolen by force? Anyway, I lost my “virginity” to a guy I had never met before and never talked to again. He was a friend of a friend and I don’t even remember his name now. At a party one night, this chap seemed to be up for it, so I figured why not. I really just wanted to have it done with. We were in a room with a few other people. It was far from ideal and it pisses me off now. My first real kiss and my first real fuck were only a few minutes apart. That’s messed up.

A few days later, I went to the establishment where everyone at my school hung out in those days and on the ladies’ room wall was written, “WhateverHisNameWas is a lousy lay.” I don’t remember his name, but I remember that. I also remember nodding in mild agreement, even though I had nothing but nightmares for comparison.

After that, I became ridiculously promiscuous. I would have sex with whomever I chose. It had a lot to do with control. I was not in control as a seven-year-old child, but I damn well was now. By choosing who to have sex with, I was in control, even if it wasn’t much of a choice. I picked up a nasty drug habit and began selling myself. I rationalized it by telling myself it was still my choice–I was still in control–and I could stop any time I liked. It was a lie.

I really don’t have an accurate count of how many people I’ve had sex with in the course of my life. I try not to think about it, because it’s disgusting. Even after I stopped prostituting, for a long time, I was all about the one night stand. No one could hurt me that way. No one could ever get close enough to touch my heart. And those who did stick around, I treated miserably. I cheated on my first real boyfriend, who made it past some, not all, but some of my walls. I broke up with him and broke both of our hearts in the process. At the time, I thought it had to be done because I wasn’t worthy of his love.

The longest relationship I had was with a married man. I’m definitely not proud of that, but it was safe for me because he had someone else. He once asked me to marry him and I laughed in his face. I have never had a proper, continuous one year anniversary with anyone.

Even with Male now, who knows all about my past, we’re not technically involved. We’ve been off and on for more than a decade, but he’s not my boyfriend. For the last few years, we’ve been dating in every way except in name. We don’t talk about it; it just is. Whatever it is. It’s easier for me that way; being together without technically being together. That way I won’t feel trapped and do terrible things. He’s not entirely innocent either. We’re both really fucked up in different, yet similar ways. Our kinks match. We’re perfect for each other, but neither of us would ever say that to the other’s face.

Part of why I have had very few committed successful relationships is because, whenever I meet someone new, I have to play the part of the victim once more by explaining all of this all over again. It’s hard to talk about at all, let alone to someone you don’t know well, but would like to get to know better. How do you explain to someone that you were sexually abused at seven, became a drug addict prostitute as a teenager, have had more one night stands than dates by a factor of a hundred, were in an abusive relationship with an asshole who nearly killed you as an adult, and as a result of all that, have major depressive disorder, body dysmorphic disorder and PTSD? And, if you decide to tell someone all of that, when do you do it? On a first date? Before you have sex? When is that conversation appropriate?

I’ve thought of printing up little cards in a nice font with a succinct bullet list to hand out. “Sexually abused reformed child prostitute with mental health and commitment issues halfheartedly searching for someone to share a non-traditional non-relationship. Part-time acceptable. STD FREE!!” The look of judgment, or worse, pity that some people get on their faces is too much to bear. It’s exhausting. It’s easier to be friends with people who are messed up themselves. They don’t judge as readily. They don’t tip-toe around it.

I don’t talk about that aspect of my life much for a few reasons. First, I don’t, can’t, really talk about the abuse itself. I’m not ready yet. Second, I am not proud of it. I am ashamed of who I became. The child abuse snowballed into something much larger and worse. And third, I’m insanely angry that I became a whore, because it was his fault. I thought I was in control, but it was the sexual abuse that was in control. After all of those years, he was still in control of me. I am very lucky to have made it through all of that alive and without any permanent consequences like STDs.

Sexual abuse is not something that ever goes away. It distorts a person in so many ways, even in ways you’re not even conscious of. It will destroy the person you were destined to be. In the worst possible outcome, it can even turn victims of abuse into abusers themselves. The best that we can do is talk about it, be aware of it and try to stop it from happening to anyone else.

If you know someone in danger, please, get help. It is never too late.

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113Comments

WOW!!! This was an amazingly vulnerable and courageous post! As I read it I began checking off the similarities in my mind. We share many of the same reactions to our sexual abuse. I think many women do react this way, but fear of the outside world’s response to their promiscuity keeps them silent! I know I kept my mouth shut for decades. I wish I had read this post right after my rape so that I might have known why I reacted the way I did. I always thought there was something wrong with me! Thank you again for this “raw” sharing with your readers and thank for linking to my writing! ((((hugs)))) sent your way

Thanks. It took many many years to realize that wasn’t me. We really do have a lot in common which is why your post resonated so strongly with me. Thank you for sharing and thank you for prompting my own. 🙂

This is the wonderful thing about WordPress…two people meeting over a blog post…who can relate to each other and each others stories! It’s amazing! I look forward to continuing to read your blog in the upcoming days 🙂

Same here. And yay for Zoe for allowing me to read your story in the first place. My blog isn’t abuse-centric by any means, but every once in a while, it builds up and I have to talk about it, probably to the chagrin of some who come here for giggles. 🙂

Smiling…I love giggles! I haven’t really talked about the abuse at all on my blog. It has kind of evolved into a place where I use poetry to help me keep my addictions at bay! I use it for my therapy 🙂 But I also have some silly things like Wordle Wednesdays! lol

Goldy, don’t ever feel that your posts are “to our chagrin.” I think we all understand the need to write about these things and how therapeutic they can be and possibly beneficial to others who may stumble upon the post.

I honestly wish I could reach across the country and give you a big hug. You’ve been through so much yet you seem, from what I can tell, to have overcome most of it.

I agree that we need to quit hiding topics such as these. They need to be made public to raise awareness. Too many children are abused by trusted family members and friends. It’s haunting.

Thanks, TD. I was mostly joking about that, but you’re right. I joke as a way to hide my fear. These posts are never easy to write and they can’t be easy to read. I know when I read posts like this by others, it makes me angry. Thanks as always for your support. Xoxo

They upset me, too. And after scrolling through all the comments here my heart broke. Really. You, Melanie, and Zoe are an inspiration. To have suffered what you all have and lead relatively normal lives is amazing to me. I am in awe of you all.

{{{big hug}}} I’m glad you’re sharing, I’m sorry you were abused, too. No matter in what way we fall out afterwards, I think we are all pretty similar in terms of feeling really hurt and pissed off. I hope you continue on a healing path. Getting it out is the only way to heal. It is hard work, but necessary, IMO.
I am wondering if you want to address how/if this history fits in with your employment, and how you find the balance. To me, the porn industry is about objectification and sexual exploitation. It’s about turning people into parts, and sexual intimacy into something much less about relationships, and more about ugliness. Somewhere in this porn manufacturing process, someone is being sexually exploited. And someone is being sexually coerced. And someone is being sexually abused. And people consume these materials, sometimes in the quest of sexually abusing others.
How do you manage, or is this something that you don’t really connect with your past? Is it “just to pay the bills,” or is there more to it (and I think there is always more to our choices)? I mean this with all gentleness and sincerity, I don’t understand how you can work in this field. Can you help your readers understand? Thanks for considering my question.

I keep trying. These posts on abuse are coming more frequently now, so I think that’s a good sign. Although, I still haven’t gotten to the heart of the issue; i keep tap dancing around the elephant in the room.

Huh. I never thought of it in terms of employment, but it’s probably very true. I am as uncommitted to a job or career as I am to personal relationships. That never occurred to me before.

The fact that I ended up in the porn industry I think is just a coincidence. It’s really like any other graphic design job. I don’t have anything to do with any of the “business end” so to speak. But the fact that I wasn’t committed to any one field or career certainly is part of it.

I suppose you are right that I ended up working behind the scenes in the adult industry because I’m more aware of sexuality than most, and it probably, definitely stems from child abuse. I try not to think of that though because it means the grip that he still has on me is tangible. I would love more than anything to get out of it and into a regular job, but it’s hard.

This post took massive courage. Thank you for sharing this part of yourself. I know I can speak for most of us when I say we would never judge you. From what I can tell, you are an awesome human being. Be kind to yourself always. xxxx {Hugs} Merry

I never really connected the two until today. I lost my virginity to a rapist. I’ve never really talked about that. I swept it under the carpet and then moved – leaving the carpet and the dirt where they were. Except I always did take a little jar of that dirt with me. After that I “took pride” in scoring one night stands. I was beating them to the punch. As long as I was willing, they could rape me, so I made the first move and men, being ruled by their penis, were more than willing to take what I was offering. it was my misguided sense of protection.

Thank you. I do appreciate your willing ear. I have not thought about it in ages. It’s kind of flooding back now.
It has been a day of breakthroughs, and I can’t think of a better group to experience it with, even though it’s not all sunshine and rainbows, it’s full of love and without judgement.

No. Do not apologize. This would have come back to me at some point, and now I am stronger than I was ever before, so I can admit it and own the consequences I brought on myself afterwards, and I won’t brush it off, I will just process it more slowly because of the timing. Thank you. Really. This was a realization that is good for me and the result will bring me greater self-awareness and strength.

I’m so sorry, Melanie. I was the same way with making the first move. I wouldn’t get together with anyone who hit on me; I always had to be the one making the first move. It’s sad how many of us who’ve been sexually abused think that by being promiscuous, we’re owning our sexuality, when in actuality, our sexuality owns us. It sometimes takes forever to realize this. Much love, my dear. We are strong. 🙂

I was the same way. Someone coming after me always got rejected, but his quiet friend got laid. In actuality, it was the opposite of how I viewed it. I did view it as taking ownership, as taking the rapists ability to rape by volunteering first, but it wasn’t; not really.
We are strong. And getting stronger everyday.

I was like this for about five years. It was one of the reasons I chose a college so far away from home (the sleeping around). I wanted a fresh start, to leave the people I was hanging out with who knew me as the sexual one. I had to remove myself from the environment to change my behavior. Two years later, I met Donkey, so that worked out (not).
That we have made ourselves into functioning adults is a testament to our strength. We could very well be under a bridge, or a headstone, had we not had this inherent strength we could draw from.

Yup, last time I was back in Michigan, even though I had to go to a funeral in the Detroit area, and I still have lots of friends that way, I made a point to fly in/out of Lansing, stay with a friend there, and make the hour+ drive in….

Wow what courage that took. I slept around for years too, my story on that is coming out on http://www.deliberatedonkey.wordpress.com on May 30th. I never thought of it before that it wasn’t me. As I cried through Kira’s story, I’m crying through yours, it should have never been for any of us. You guys amaze me. xo

I can’t wait to read it. I confess that I saw your post in Melanie’s drafts folder and I tried to get a sneak peak, but it wouldn’t let me. I’ll have to wait to read it like a regular shmoe.

You’re right that it shouldn’t have been that way for any of us. The best we can do is realize it and make others aware who might be going through it themselves. It really pisses me off just how much of my actions are a result of sexual abuse, but I would rather know than go on blindly behaving that way.

Sneaky fishy! lol You would have been welcome to read it if it let you..:) It’s so hard to discover all the damage abuse has done though eh but good to be aware a the same time…

You know sadly i’ve been affected by std’s. as a result. 😦 A crappy reality of all this too. I’m so glad you weren’t. xo You and Kira are helping me find my voice on this, to honest, I’ve been to scared to post it on my blog. Maybe when it comes out on Mel’s I’ll have the courage to reblog it on mine, thanks to you both xo

Posting this was really very scary. I can talk about a lot of other things related to sexual abuse, but somehow, talking about my sexuality is shameful. I think it’s because I still haven’t entirely accepted that it wasn’t my fault. That was not me. My actions were the result of abuse. Rationally, I know that, but deep down, it’s hard to accept because it means accepting how much the abuse is still affecting me. It’s a toughie. But the more we talk, the more we help others realize that it’s okay to talk about it.

I hope so. Part of the reason I write posts like this is that maybe someone will read it and realize they’re not alone. That already happened for Kira today because I wrote this after I read hers, so kudos to both of you for that. 🙂

You are welcome to use my space anytime. It’s open to you to talk and work through this. We are all together in this, and this little corner of WordPress we have carved out for ourselves is amazingly supportive. Plus, anyone who dares to call any of us names will rue the day, and we can delete them.

Yes. Exactly. The more we talk, the better it is for all of us. Even though are experiences are different, the pain is the same. You’ve begun a great thing with your guest posts and I’m honored to be a part of it. I can’t wait to read them all.

You are a brave and resilient woman, Goldfish. You may not have had control when you were 7 or when you were promiscuous, but you definitely have control now. You have control of your words, your honesty, and your courage. I thank you for sharing your story to help others who might need help. That is compassionate act of someone who deserves compassion herself. I may be wrong, but I sense some self-compassion bubbling to the surface of every post in which you confront your past. {{{Hugs}}} Kozo.

I enjoy all of your posts, but the ones where you open up a little and talk about things that have happened to you probably affect me the most. We all have baggage of some kind that we have to carry around, but to have gone through what you have and come out of it with a sense of humour and resisting the urge to curl up into a little ball is amazing. Sometimes I think the bullying baggage that I cart around is insignificant compared to things that others have gone through. I don’t think you should ever worry about pressing that ‘publish’ button. The one thing I have learnt about blogging is that if you are having a crap day there is always someone there to listen. And that makes a huge difference 🙂

This is such a brave post to write, and I respect you so much for sharing it. Major props to you forgetting through it and reaching a place where you can share you experiences so openly. You’re helping more people than you probably know!

Your post is sincere and courageous. Despite never facing that kind of experience by myself or everyone around me, I felt such an honor having a chance to read this fearless open-up story of yours. Thank you for sharing this.

As ever, Goldfish, I am filled with love, admiration, respect, hurt, frustration, sadness and concern on hearing more of your life. You have nothing to apologize for – and we are blessed to have you here, writing for us, educating us, and making a stand for those who are unable to make their own – as always, breathe, keep going. One step and then the next.

I am so sorry that this happened to you. You are so right, sexual abuse fucks up our sexual identity. I can’t say I led the same life, or totally understand what happened to you, but I was abused too. It is only recently that I have been able to have a “normal loving relationship” and even now, I am not always sure it is 100% healthy even now. I have done things that I am still ashamed of sexually. High risk sexual activity to make me feel better, but it didn’t . Thanks for sharing and you are not alone!

We all go in different ways. Some of us, like my sister, keep everything inside, try to keep walking that line. And some, like me, really don’t care whether they live or die and do everything to push it. That’s what happens when you are sexually abused and don’t get any help. It sucks. I’m sorry that you can relate. But the fact that you and I are talking about it is a big step towards healing.

I totally get it. I’m not really suicidal either, but it certainly does seem easy sometimes. Easier than the alternative anyway. But then I think about the people I’d be leaving behind and their reaction, and it stops me in my tracks. I hope you have that too.

This really affected me. It’s heartbreakingly honest, but it also reminded me that we all have issues, demons, and pain. Most people refuse to admit anything is wrong, that anything has happened., and they will lie to themselves before ever getting help, if they ever choose to do so. One step at a time is what helps you work through things and move forward. I’m glad you’ve risen about a lot of this, and I feel your pain.

People lien to themselves all the time about large and small things. No one’s life is perfect, believe me. It’s a brave thing to discuss and admit, but you need to exorcise it from your system for you. If you can help someone else out along the way, then you’re paying it forward by raising awareness and giving people a little education.

I get so angry with a coworker lately, who keeps calling many of my fellow coworkers a variety of names relating to their supposed promiscuity, partly because of this. Partly because body policing and telling others what to do with themselves sexually is none of his business, partly because he has no idea why they make the choices they make. There are other reasons for having multiple sex partners, of course, but that doesn’t stop his judgements from being, well, judgy and uninformed. At least one of my other male coworkers stood up with me the other day and said to him: “You have to stop talking about women like that.”

You did what you had to do and what you knew and felt at the time. And you know what? The judgers are worse, and most of them probably aren’t worth winning over as friends or lovers anyway. It would be nice to make a small dent in that mentality, true. Be mad at ignorance, be mad at the people who hurt you, but don’t be mad at yourself for trying to survive and be safe. You’re a cool person. We’ve all made choices we’re not proud of; just worry about what you’ve got to do now, and where you’d like to be. The past matters, but get your revenge by rising above it where you can.

Choice wasn’t the right word, I’ll admit; I couldn’t think of the right word at the time (still can’t). It’s hard to tell if, at any given point in our life, we aren’t reacting only with the knowledge and capabilities we have at the time. Yeah, free will is involved, but if we aren’t in a mental place to see it or don’t know what else we could do differently, what do we do? I don’t know if that made any sense. My point was, don’t hate yourself for the past. We’ve got plenty of other stuff to deal with without fretting about things we can’t change, and I think we all did the best we could under the circumstances.

I know what it is to spend one’s life self-sabotaging through any means possible. I will not deny that my smoking habit is a bit para-suicidal. The first time someone brought up the health hazards with me, my silent internal response was “good”. Relationships, drugs, work, sex, etc., all of them can have a sharp edge if you angle them the right way. I just keep trying to pay attention, and fix the damage I do, and prevent myself from causing more. I mean, theoretically, I’m not helping myself when I derail every good thing in my life, right? Easier said than done, though, and sometimes I get in one of those states where I don’t care if it all goes to hell.

Yeah, I don’t know what the correct word is either. Yes, it’s a choice in the lowest common denominator sense, but there’s so much more behind it.

I don’t hate myself for my past. It makes me cringe a lot, especially before I realized where it came from, but I don’t hate myself for it.

Smoking is definitely a little para-suicidal. I can’t seem to give it up either. It’s sad that consciously or subconsciously, we seem to self-sabotage. The hard part is being aware of it when you’re doing it and wanting to stop.

I happened on your blog through wordpress recommendations. I’m speechless. I’m astounded at how well you were able to verbalize feelings and thoughts that I have had for years but never knew quite how to say, write, understand. My Oma sounds like your grandmother’s long-lost twin, my dad-your mom. Alone with that I am also working through personal/family issues, mood disorder diagnoses, and just trying to figure out who I am/want to be in this world. Thank you for your posts. I’m inspired and encouraged, and not alone. That’s the most important part: I’m not alone.

I’m sorry to hear you can relate. This post was hard to write and I definitely wavered over the publish button for a good long while. You are not alone. We are not alone and we don’t have to figure all this out alone either. Abuse is such a quagmire that leaves a total jumble of our personalities. Thanks for the comment.

I’m seeing a victim of sexual abuse. it happened to her 30 years ago. She had told me about the abuse without into much detail. I just found out how promiscuous she was this past weekend. trying to educate myself as much as possible on why she does what she does. How can i be more supportive?

Wow, what a post. I can feel the rawness sprinkled with dark humor. I understand a little more how hard this loss has been for you. I can understand the PTSD. I send you good vibes and hope for healing. Remember, you are worth it. You deserve love and happiness.

I think this is validating but also scary and potentially harmful when you say things like it will destroy the person you were destined to be. You can’t mean that’s true across the board in that intensify can you? Very sad and discouraging if so..

Thank you for posting your story. It was very insightful and took real courage to share the way you did. It is so kind doing so to help others. I sent you a message through your Facebook page. If you could read it, I’d appreciate it. Hoping you find all the happiness in the world!

I was hoping I could email you for some advice with respect to a woman I am dating. She has gone through some things similar to yourself and I think your insight would help us both. I didn’t see your email, however. Would you mind sharing it?

You are worthy of love and healing. You’re not worthless you are priceless. This is not your identity. Your identity is so much more. Valuable, worthy, priceless….but what was left was a lie that you didn’t matter and the abuse was on because you were worthless anyway. These were all lies…underneath it all its a Person worthy of dignity and love…don’t give up find the treasure you are!

that was really straight talking and I can identify with what you went through. Similar to my own experiences. I know what its like to be used, abused, blamed and then chucked aside like rubbish.
people who are lucky enough never to have been abused as a child really have no idea of the trauma and long term damage it does.
I for one, am glad the world is changing and that we are no longer gagged victims, in fact, from now on, I’m going to tell people I meet that I as abused as a child and that I am still coping with it, my way, and in a positive way. if they look puzzled, I shall explain its similar to PTS or anyone else that’s had a traumatic life changing experience. I don’t see myself as a needy person, but one that is strong and willing to go the extra mile to help those who are genuinely struggling in their life’s. in the past ive been called whore, slut and trash, (even by my own family who disowned me) and no one would dare to call me that to my face now, not unless they enjoy walking away feeling 2″ high. I’m not a victim anymore. I’m someone who has been through hell and back again. I know I will never experience a true loving relationship, my innocence was robbed from me, and my trust shattered, so I don’t look for that anymore. but ive come through this as a stronger person, like a battle scarred old warrior, with a strong sense of what is right and wrong and above all I can take life in its stride and enjoy it. so balls to anyone who thinks they can put me down or judge me, they are not my equals. ive found peace in my life knowing I am good and strong.